Poem #58 Hour come to rocking cradle

Fall apart anarchy of innocence conviction full of troubled sight

Lion body, pit less thighs, indignant drops.

Again a twentieth century nightmare: a last born desert rapture

Hour come to rocking cradle

 rough beast slouching

head of this man the sun ‘s vexed image

empty anarchy—hand out words

loose upon the world

drowned the worst everywhere

all about it sands of man sleep

sleep hours come at last

somewhere of a head

now I know a stony sheep shadow

December cannot hold passionate intensity. 

Poem #56 Krampus

advance he spoke

theaters of what they called the phantoms

mirrored mist arose like the making of the eastern gates

full drawn

heavy burst whereon he rode there then wrought upon lightening

the gazes of lost wisdom for glory exalted now

 one by one still commanded

if but a god disturbed

eager opened like gifts on Christmas

new woes

to the sorrow of the spirit

stretch as heaven with universal space

brightest of unrevealed powers

creating joy sweet soft fruits of wonder

shapes that cannot be.